


pants down

by fasola



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Future Fic, Getting Together, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 05:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fasola/pseuds/fasola
Summary: As reparations for the little transgression, since no one died in the end, Peter gets punished and for the next to weeks he won't be able to hide his claws.It’s not an awful punishment, could be worse, and Peter can still do a lot of regular things if he’s careful.What he can’t do though is go out in public, which he doesn't mind much, but he also can't go anywhere near his super soft expensive v-necks and sweaters or wiggle into his tight jeans. At least not if he doesn't want to have to replace his whole wardrobe once the spell is over.Which leaves him with the choice of either wearing generic t-shirts and unflattering pants until it’s all over.Or.Enlisting someone to help him with that, and a few other delicate matters that claws make difficult in his day to day life.





	pants down

It takes three clashes during the Pack's patrols through the Preserve, multiple bones broken and healed over for the werewolves, a few pairs of wings damaged and magically repaired for the pixies, and the combined power of Stiles', Lydia's, Boyd's and Peter's minds to finally agree on an alliance that would stop the territory conflict between the Pack and the pixies.

 

It took a little more blood than necessary in the end, but with a few compromises here and there both sides were left satisfied by the end result.

 

Some people more so than others.

 

Because while both sides got a bit tattered as they fought, one pixie in particular got clawed up pretty badly by Peter. Not that it wasn't deserved, but even Peter could admit (in the darkness of his own apartment and only to himself and never aloud) that he might have been a little too brutal. Even if he was protecting Stiles from losing an ear.

 

_ ("It's quite a deletable one, too." _

 

_ "Jesus fucking Christ, Peter, so not the time right now.") _

 

As reparations for the little transgression, since no one died in the end, Peter gets punished and for the next to weeks he won't be able to hide his claws.

 

It’s not an awful punishment, could be worse, and Peter can still do a lot of regular things if he’s careful.

 

What he can’t do though is go out in public, which he doesn't mind much, but he also can't go anywhere near his super soft expensive v-necks and sweaters or wiggle into his tight jeans. At least not if he doesn't want to have to replace his whole wardrobe once the spell is over.

 

Which leaves him with the choice of either wearing generic t-shirts and unflattering pants until it’s all over. 

  
  
Or.

  
  
Enlisting someone to help him with that, and a few other delicate matters that claws make difficult in his day to day life.   
  


And Peter is a creature of comfort and he values not only his clothes, but also his privacy. They might have all come a long way from the ragtag group of teenagers they were five years ago and Peter might even claim to enjoy spending time with some of them like Erica and Boyd, Lydia,  _ Stiles _ , but that didn’t mean he’d allow just anybody to see him even slightly incapacitated.

 

In fact, Peter almost considers treating it like vacation and simply secluding himself in his apartment, ordering takeout, flouncing around in just his sweats and catching up on some shows, leaving for a run after it gets dark if he feels like it. But then. Well.

 

“I guess, it was  _ me  _ that suggested the claws-out option,” Stiles says later while wiggling his fingers, after the alliance was agreed upon and the new borders settled and he drove Peter back to his place, “And, well, if you  _ wanted _ , I could, you know, help you out a bit?”

 

His cheeks are flushed and he’s looking over Peter’s right shoulder instead of directly at him, but he looks so delectable like this, so earnest and flustered, so  _ eager _ .

 

Peter doesn’t have the heart to deny him. Nor the will to deny himself the opportunity to spend even more time with Stiles. And if Stiles is also the only person Peter  _ trusts  _ to see him open and vulnerable, that’s nobody’s business but his own.

 

“Oh, my dear, sweet boy,” Peter drawls, placing the tip of one claw lightly on the underside of Stiles’ chin in a facsimile of the night years ago, and guides Stiles to look at him properly, “Of course I want to get your hands on me. You only ever had to ask.”

 

Stiles flushes even harder at that, but curiously enough, doesn’t roll his eyes at Peter’s comment the way he usually does.

 

“I didn’t-- I didn’t  _ plan _ to get you in this position and use it to my advantage, I  _ swear-- _ ”

 

Peter silences him by placing his thumb across Stiles’ mouth. Even if Peter couldn’t hear the truth of it in Stiles’ heartbeat and smell the sudden wave of distress, that possibility didn’t even cross his mind. They both knew the importance of consent all too well.

 

“I know,” Peter says softly, then smirks, dragging his thumb across Stiles’ lower lip and then cupping Stiles’ cheek in his hand, mindful of his claws and  _ pleased _ when the man doesn’t even flinch, “but since you’re here and offering a helping hand, why don’t you come up and help me get comfortable.”

 

This time Peter’s words have the desired effect and Stiles rolls his eyes at him, huffing in amusement. 

 

“You’re such a jerk,” Stiles accuses.

 

But he still follows Peter into his apartment and not only helps Peter get out of his form-fitting jeans, but gets rid of his own as well. 

  
As expected, they’re both a bit disappointed when Peter’s fingers are back to normal. But only briefly. Because now it was Peter’s turns to get his hands on Stiles.


End file.
